I Still Hear Your Voice
by Deilf Amhran
Summary: “Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within” James A. Baldwin. My version of a sequel to the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, NOT the movie.
1. A Rose and a Nightingale

_**AN: Arrggghhh! I was supposed to work on my Leroux sequel but...I'm just lazy and the computers in my house are EEVVVIIILLLLLLLLLLL! Yes.  
**__**Anyway, let me explain this story. After I saw the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical version I thought there seemed to be so much potential for a sequel. And Erik isn't necessarily dead (yet) while in Leroux he is stated to be dead which leaves more room for interesting developments. Also, I thought Erik (er, the Phantom) and Christine had this strong bond through out the whole musical.  
The point is I thought it would be interesting to doa sequel to the musical version. Until I realized I'd have to use ALW canon. Christine's a dancer (okay); Madame Giry is the ballet instructor (fine since I liked her personality better); Andre and Firmin as the mangers (annoying since Ithought Moncharmin and Richard had more personality); NO Persian (HORRIBLE, I love that guy...); Erik having a nose (:twitch:); only half of Erik's face being deformed (:twitch: okay only if I make the one side REALLY bad). So I'll try and follow the ALW canon even if it hurts. Though I might have to bring the Persian in just because...**_

_**Disclaimer: Phantom of the Opera belongs to Gaston Leroux. This version, per se, belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber & everyone else who helped make the show (since ALW only did the music and produced it or something).**_

_**Are you sick of my rambling? Anyway, on with the story!**

* * *

_

A Rose and a Nightingale; a Voice and a Memory: Chapter 1

Traffic swarmed about and around the Opera. People, police, singers, ballerinas, concierges, and stagehands were all running in and out. It was hard to tell _what _they were doing or why they were doing it. Though, in truth, the mess wasn't as difficult as it could have been since most of the Opera staff had descended to wreak revenge.

Not that the young man who hailed the brougham knew all this or cared to either. His one concern was the woman hanging limping to his arm, her hands frozen white. After seeing that she was comfortable and as dry as she could be, he hurried her home. Well, the brougham did actually. It sped through traffic though sometimes not fast enough for him. Every so often he would peer out the window as if checking to see if they were being followed then turn to comfort and console the woman beside him. When they finally reach their destination, he escorted her inside.

There was no one home in the immediate apartment. Madame Valerius was in her own room.

"Don't worry Christine, dear," Raoul attempted to reassure her, "the authorities will find that…._him _and when they do we'll be saf—"

"He won't follow us. He won't find us. He let us go." Christine particularly chanted, monotonous.

Raoul stopped talking to stare at her. Even since their narrow escape from the Phantom's lair Christine appeared to be some kind of daze. Of course she had been happy to finally be free of him and with him, Raoul, but after the boat ride out of the lair she had become increasingly quite. He hoped the Phantom hadn't done anything to her, somehow chained her soul further to him, when she went back to return his ring. Raoul had thought it was a bad idea but Christine had insisted. She couldn't just walk away without a farewell she said. Even after all that mad man had put them through, _put him through, _Christine still seemed…well Raoul wasn't quite sure. And he hadn't thought about how Christine had convinced the Phantom to let them go. He didn't want to even if she had done it out of love for him as he would have told himself if he had thought of it. But something held the thoughts back.

"Well then Christine I believe you will be safe here for the few days before the wedding. Since that lunatic isn't bent on bending you to his will we won't have to rush off now will we? We will do things right! You deserve the most extravagant wedding in all France!" Raoul bowed to kiss her lightly. She stood still and let him but made no more to response. Well, he reasoned, she is most likely traumatized.

"Well then…goodbye for now, Christine. I'll be back soon…little Lotte" with a tip of his hat Raoul was gone the door clicking behind him.

Christine stared dumbly at the door remembering the words still hovering in the air.

_We will do things right! You deserve the most extravagant wedding…_

_A wedding._

She looked down at herself. She still wore it.

The Phantom's wedding dress.

With a shudder, Christine stormed into her room slamming the door not caring if she woke Mama Valerius. She attempted to take the dress off but found her hands were shaking too badly. Instead she flung herself on her bed and lay unmoving as the dead.

_This face, which earned a mother's fear and loathing..._

_So, do you end your days with me, or do you send him to his grave?_

_This is the choice - This is the point of no return!..._

_too late for prayers and useless pity..._

_no point in fighting for either way you choose, you cannot win! _

_You try my patience - make your choice!_

_Go now - don't let them find you!_

_Masquerade ... Hide your face, so the world will never find you..._

_Christine, I love you..._

All the events from the last few hours swirled within her head. She couldn't forget his pleading voice as he called out his love. She couldn't forget the joy in Raoul's eyes as they rowed away. She couldn't forget the terror of seeing Raoul in the Punjab lasso. She couldn't forget the sound of his voice.

Burying her face in her pillow Christine tried to empty her mind of all thoughts. Once it seemed she never had enough thoughts, always day dreaming, now she had too many. Nothing, nothing. Empty your mind….One thought surfaced against the raging sea. A question.

Why had she done it?

She did it to save Raoul. The Phantom would have killed him. She couldn't let Raoul die for her sake. That was why she had ...done it. And yet…and yet something inside Christine wiggled around trying to assert itself. She hadn't just done it for Raoul…

With a groan Christine shoved her face deeper into the pillow.

In truth she hadn't been thinking clearly at the time. She only wanted Raoul to live and to show her Angel that he was not alone in a dark, cruel world. She had just….reacted. The kiss had surprised her as much as it did them. It had just happened. It had seemed so natural…and Raoul would go free.

But, that wiggling _ness _inside Christine said, you weren't thinking of Raoul during the kiss. The only thoughts were why isn't he kissing me? Why isn't he responding? In desperation she had hugged him fiercely and kissed him again. The second time he was warmer, less tense, she could feel him melting around her. But when that kiss ended he had wandered off, crying and moaning, screaming at them to leave. Dumbfounded, shocked at his reaction and happy at Raoul's release, she had obeyed leaving with Raoul to freedom and light.

But then she couldn't just leave. It wouldn't be right.

Christine had gone back only to return the ring. It was his after all. She didn't deserve it. She was leaving him all alone in this cold, dismal underground world. She didn't deserve anything of her Angel's…

Her Angel? She still thought of him as her Angel of Music?

In a way, yes. He had inspired her voice, had given her wings, and hope after her father died. But he was still a murderer.

Turning over on her stomach Christine stared at the whitewash ceiling as if attempting to burn holes through it.

She hadn't expected what he said. She hadn't expected the most beautiful words in the whole world to be spoken by the most beautiful voice in the world.

_Christine, I love you..._

She couldn't think, couldn't even breathe when he said those four words. She couldn't even say goodbye. All she could do was runaway, afraid that if she stayed for a moment longer she would stay forever trapped and comforted by his words. They had stirred something deep inside her like a thread that he pulled toward himself.

Abruptly she sat up. This wasn't doing her any good. What she needed was rest. Sleep without dreams. Christine wandered into the kitchen looking for a sleeping potion. Eventually she found what she knew were medicine to help Mama Valerius rest easily. After a small dosage, hoping she hading taken too much away from her guardian, Christine laid back in bed.

As sleep drifted over her Christine had one last thought amidst the blurring colors of her mind.

_I never knew his name._

**♪ ♪ ♪**

Christine was gone and his home discovered by a mob.

Life was grand, wasn't it?

It was one of _those _days.

Erik moved along an underground tunnel unknown to the so-called "owners" of his Opera. There were many of passageways and trapdoors of which no one knew. He had, after all, aided the construction of this mausoleum.

A tomb. Yes, that was it, what it was now. He would die here. There was no point in living.

_Christine…_

_Christine…_

A stab of pain. Another pointless strangled sob escaped from his lips. It was all pointless. She had left, ran away after he had finally confessed his love.

Blinded by annoying, useless tears, Erik struggled on, deeper and further along the dark and dank passageway. He had to get out, had to find somewhere safe. His only safe home lost forever in one moment of reckless passion.

How was he supposed to know they suddenly develop a backbone and track him down?

Really people were so unpredictable sometimes.

That's one of the things he hated about them.

Christine, for example….

Erik stopped, catching his breath. Indeed Christine one of the most unpredictable of the lot. First she had been drawn to him, then repulsed, then compassionate, and then there was that whole scene with that _boy _on the roof top. He wouldn't have expected her to show him any more compassion let alone a kiss. Twice!

Trembling, Erik leaned against the wall. Dampness was soaking into his clothes but he hardly cared. His entire mind was focused on remembering…

the kiss.

No one had ever kissed him before, his mother couldn't even bear to look at him without his mask and yet _Christine _had kissed him. But why? It hardly mattered. Feeling those warm, _living _lips against his, sensing the complete surrender and tenderness of her body had made him want her all the more. It made him love her all the more. And then Erik knew he couldn't force her to stay. He loved her too much to chain her to unending night, dank and darkness. She deserved better, a _handsome _gentleman like _Monsieur _le Vicomte, not a _monster _like Erik. He would never allow her to stay, then. Even if it meant scaring her out of her mind he would drive her away, to light and happiness. She deserved so much more than he could give her. Beautiful, wonderful Christine.

_Christine…_

_Christine…_

This time the call was akin to a soft moan in his heart. Erik hadn't realized until she kissed him and he knew he wouldn't keep her how much he loved her.

And then…And _then…_

Erik wanted to stop the flow of memories, wanted to get away to somewhere safe but the memories flowed on, disregarding his feelings.

And then she had returned. Returned even after Erik had driven them away, screaming and cursing. He hadn't dared to hope Christine had returned to stay with him yet a small part of his heart had and he clung to that like a drowning man lost at sea.

But Christine, his dear Christine, had only come back to return his ring. A further sundering from him. She loathed him so much she couldn't bare anything related to Erik. And yet there had been sorrow and tenderness in her eyes. _Perhaps, perhaps…_the traitorous part of his heart felt. So he had finally gathered the courage to sing the words he had never dared to say before. _Perhaps she'll stay…because she loves me._

But no. No, of course not. That would be silly. Christine had run away with tears and horror in her eyes. At least Erik thought so. Of course that was how it had to be, the Angel of Heaven could only hate the Angel of Hell.

And yet…and yet…

Erik felt a strange feeling seep through the pain, guilt and sorrow. A strange feeling. Perhaps she didn't _hate _him that was a bit extreme after all. There was genuine compassion in those kisses; one could almost say _passion _if one didn't know what they were dealing with. Apparently she had felt, at least, deep pity for him. That wouldn't mend his broken heart but Christine had gone beyond just thinking pity to showing it. She had kissed him to…to…

_Pitiful creature of darkness ... What kind of life have you known...?  
God, give me courage to show you are not alone..._

…to show he was not alone, that she cared about him even though her repulsion and fear would never allow her to love him. It was a half-love which was more than he expected or hoped for.

Erik thought this should make him feel better, perhaps nobler for releasing the bird from its cage or remorse for all the lives he destroyed or the kind of life he lead. Perhaps those feelings were true. He _did _feel them to a certain extent but mostly he felt…

Erik felt lonely.

Slowly, the former Phantom of the Opera and Angel of Music straighten and continued walking.

After all what else was there for Erik to do?


	2. A Mouse and a Man

**AN: This isn't as good as my first chapter. Less emotion mostly cos Erik and Christine aren't in it. I tried to get the _plot _going a bit in this chapter...Sorry if it isn't as...heartfelt as my first. That is more what I'll strive for. **

_

* * *

_

_A Mouse and a Man; a Question and an Answer: Chapter 2 _

All pandemonium broken out when the Phantom wasn't there; only his mask remained. As the stage hands, etc ran around the massive lair, gesticulating and yelling to get their unreleased energy out, Meg couldn't help but feel how pointless it all was. The Phantom of the Opera obvious wasn't here anymore. He had vanished like a wisp of smoke as if he was indeed a ghost.

Was he? Was the Phantom really a ghost or was he a flesh and blood man forced underground by his ugliness?

Her mother had certainly been closed on the subject.

Meg stamped her foot in frustration. This wasn't helping at all. Everyone was still running around like chickens with their heads cut off. It was maddening.

And what had happened to Christine? And Raoul?

Without further ado, Meg climbed the way she had come. No one noticed.

She still carried the white mask in her hand.

Her ascent was just as hectic as the descent. It seemed no one could figure out that the Phantom had vanished. Once people got worked up it took quite a lot to calm them. Once they called for blood, they must have it. Indeed Meg could already see various fights breaking out. They needed to get their hostilities out _somehow._

Personally she hadn't descended five cellars underground to murder some "deranged mad man under the opera" but to save her friend. She hoped Christine was alright. Christine had been a little…distance lately. And there was that Vicomte, Raoul, to consider. What had happened to him? Had he listened to her mother? And speaking of her mother, where was _she? _

As if on cue, Madame Giry appeared like a cold specter of the dead. Meg jumped, her own mother shouldn't scare her so but she did.

"Mama, where _were _you? Where is Christine? The Vicomte? _What's going on!"_

Her mother merely stared, not answering. Instead she asked a question of her own.

"Have they found _it?_" without waiting for an answer Madame Giry continued, "They must have. Very well then. Come along, Meg, we have things to do."

"Wha—"

Meg didn't even get a chance to finish as her mother walked swiftly away, not even bothering to see if Meg was following. One step forward then backwards with a swift turn. She wasn't going to follow her mother. She was going to do _what she wanted. _Her mother couldn't tell her what to do forever; she was sixteen (?) after all.

She would find Christine first of all. _Then _discover the mystery of the Phantom.

**♪ ♪ ♪**

When Raoul returned to the waiting brougham, he had no idea where to go. Should he return to the Opera? Or should he return home? Perhaps not the latter. He should prepare for the wedding. Yes, that's what he'd do.

After giving this decision to the driver the brougham headed for the finest clothing shops in Paris. Raoul settled back to imagine Christine in various, beautiful wedding dresses.

This did not last long.

Completely against his will the events of the previous hours re-played in his head. One thing in particular played over and over in his head. _That. _

The kiss. Two!

Why, in Heaven's name, had Christine done _that? _Perhaps, perhaps she had done it to soften the monster. Yes, yes that was it. How many times had he told himself that? And _how _could she have made herself, no matter how much she loved him, touch let alone _kiss _that monster?

Heaving a long heavy sigh, Raoul shifted suddenly not as comfortable as a moment ago. She really _shouldn't _have risked her life like that. Even if this Phantom wouldn't have killed her, binding herself to that mad man would certainly have been just as bad if not worse. Personally, he would rather have Christine free and safe then trapped in darkness forever. What was his life compared to the delicate, beautiful light that was Christine? He was ready to die for her, at least he could be able to watch her grow and change in heaven, but then Christine had done _that. _Why…

It was like a vicious cycle. Grinding his teeth in frustration, Raoul vowed never to think of it again. Christine loved him. He knew that with all his heart.

Closing his eyes he could still see her, smiling brightly and happily up among the stars of a Paris evening.

_All I want is freedom. A world with no more night. And you, always beside me, to hold me and to hide me._

_Love me that's all I ask of you._

_Anywhere you go let me go too!_

_Promise me that all you say is true, that's all I ask of you._

_Turn my head with talk of summertime._

_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime…_

_Let me be your freedom. Let daylight dry your tears._

_I'm here, with you, beside you to guard you and to guide you._

Smiling happily at the memory Raoul relaxed even further. It was alright…Though he would have to ask Christine about _that _as soon as she was vibrant again. Pushing that nasty returning thought away Raoul drifted back to happy memories.

Suddenly a high pitched squeak shook him out of his reverie.

"Monsieur le Vicomte! Raoul! Raoul!"

That voice sounded vaguely familiar…

The brougham had suddenly stopped due to a slender pinkish hand clinging desperately to the window door. Peering curiously at this rude intruder Raoul saw a short (somewhat stocky) girl with long blond curls cascading down her shoulders. The face was vaguely familiar…But where…Oh, Christine's friend. The ballerina. What was her name? Oh, yes Meg. Meg _Giry. _Her mother had some connection to the Phantom but she had led him to Christine so he supposed it was alright.

"Yes, Mademoiselle Giry?" then thinking she might think he didn't remember her name Raoul added, "Meg."

The girl hardly seemed to notice. "Christine! Where's Christine! Did you find her! What happened? And **_why _**are you in a carriage at a time **_like this?_**"

Raoul was stunted. This girl talked so fast and so rapidly…What on earth was she so worked up about?

"Christine is fine. She is resting at home. And yes we are…fine."

Conspiringly he leaned forward. In response Meg followed suit.

"It was a bit…of…a _tight spot _there for awhile…but I believe the—_him _is gone for good. He won't bother us anymore. He let Christine go." Raoul whispered, somehow fearing someone would over hear.

Meg nodded. That didn't explain much but at least it was more of an answer than anything else she had been getting today. Christine would explain the rest.

"Thank you, Monsieur." Meg said with a little bow, "I'll go see Christine now."

"I don't think—" Raoul began but Meg had already turned and ran off.

_How odd. What a forceful little girl. Not at all like my Christine. _

With another smile (he seemed to smiling a lot considering the recent circumstances) Raoul bid the driver to proceed.

_Now what dress would Christine look _exquisite _in?_

_Wait, was that girl wearing _pants!

* * *

**AN: Well, what did you think? R&R. Criticize. Whatever. I wanted to show Raoul as a rich, somewhat selfish, nobleman yet which a strong, sincere love for Christine which is how I see him in the musical (my views differ from Leroux!Raoul). I hoped I portaryed that accuracy.**


End file.
